Melancholia
by Klaine Lover 101
Summary: Gibbs/Abby. Abby's psycho stalker returns with a vengeance, kidnapping an eight-month-pregnant Abby and holding her hostage as the birth of her twins approaches. But as late-stage complications arise in her pregnancy, can Gibbs and the team save her in time?


**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Kidnapping, Birth, Violence, Crime, etc.

**Melancholia**

Gibbs awoke to the first hesitant rays of sunlight as they trickled through the guest room's blinds, washing over the bed and filling the room with light. Instinctually, he found himself stretching, his left arm extending outward, seeking his wife's warm body… only to be met with a cold, smooth sheet in her stead.

Instantly awake, he quickly sat up, the blankets falling in a messy pool on his lap. "Abbs?" In the time it took to say her name, he had already registered the fact that she wasn't in the room. "Abby? Abby, where are you?"

He didn't want to admit to the way that his blood ran cold at her sudden disappearance. He didn't want to acknowledge the fact that his heart was frantically beating out of control, and had taken the liberty of shooting up into his throat, making it ever so difficult to breathe. No, he forced all of that down, and did his best to remain calm.

His bare feet hit the wooden floor with a soft _thud_, and as soon as he was sure of his footing, he was off. The hallway was cold and dark, eerie and uninviting to his eyes. To the left was the master bedroom, the bedroom he had shared with Shannon. Knowing for a fact that she would not be in there, he turned his attention to the other end of the hall. Next to the guest room was a bathroom, and beyond that, the nursery. He didn't look downstairs – it was too dark.

"Abbs?" He tried, hoping for better luck in the hallway. Much to his surprise, the dim light coming from the nursery brightened considerably.

"I'm in the nursery, Jethro!" Abby chimed cheerfully. She sounded much more awake than she should have been, considering it was only four in the morning.

Gibbs made his way into the nursery, pausing in the doorway to observe his heavily pregnant wife as she slowly rocked back and forth in the rocking chair he had made her. He sighed, "What're you doing up so early?"

"The boys were acting up and playing Ping-Pong with my kidneys, so I was having a little bit of trouble sleeping. I decided to come in here and try to calm them down a bit." Abby explained.

"In the dark?" Gibbs pressed, one eyebrow raised.

"Hey – this rocking chair is awfully comfy!" Abby raised her hands defensively. "Besides, I didn't want to risk waking you by climbing back into bed."

Gibbs chose not to respond to that, not entirely comfortable with the total sense of vulnerability that had washed over him when he awoke to find her missing. That very fear had been taking the forefront in his nightmares recently, but he hadn't told her for fear of scaring her. They'd had so many close calls with the twins so far… and Gibbs was still struggling with the idea of having more children after Kelly.

But, as he stood in the nursery, his own creation, it felt… better, somehow. He'd taken on the job as soon as Abby found out about the babies, and it was finally complete now that she was nearing the end of her third trimester. The room was a soft, welcoming cerulean blue, with a plush crème carpet.

As far as furniture was concerned, Gibbs had made his future sons each a crib, each beautifully carved and polished from a rich, mahogany wood. A changing table, made of the same type of wood, stood beneath the window. And then, there was the rocking chair – a gift from him, which Abby had received at her baby shower.

"C'mon," Gibbs extended his hand toward Abby, helping her out of the chair, "You need your sleep."

Once she was on her feet, she lazily brushed the wrinkles from her black lace maternity nightgown. "Could you bring in some extra blankets… and maybe a glass of water? I'm parched."

Gibbs only nodded, carefully ushering her out into the darkened hallway. "Whatever you want, Abbs."

Before exiting the nursery, Gibbs flipped off the lights. The eerie glow of the streetlights one floor below washed into the room, filling it with a seemingly supernatural presence. Through that window, one could just barely make out a man's form as he slowly lowered something uncomfortably akin to a camera and climbed back into his car…


End file.
